The Butler Didn't Do It

Staging Death

Because everyone assumed that Gregory was lurking the grounds of the property, knife in hand like a cartoon, it was decided that for the next couple of days everyone would remain inside while the police scoured the grounds. It had been almost 24 hours and no word yet of any sign of a deranged butler. Brett hoped this meant people would be able to go outside soon. It was difficult to look for clues when at any moment he could be interrupted by a patron in the hall, or in their room, who would ask questions or ask for service. They were bored and took out their restlessness on the staff with demands. Rodgers decided to move the theater even up a day so he could give his increasingly angry guests something to do.

All the guests and select staff had gathered in what appeared to be the home theater. It was a vast windowless room with an actual stage. A proper stage that any thespian would love. Maroon curtains draped the sides of a medium sized stage which dominated one side of the room farthest from the double doors. Within the room here independent staircases that led to balcony seating. Most likely a fire hazard, but if it made the well-heeled guests feel special than it was worth the risk of burning to a crisp. It was a grand room that invited plays of all sorts to be performed. However, some guests were less impressed with the activity than Rodgers hoped.

“It would make more sense for someone to come entertain us, wouldn’t it?” Didi couldn’t stop herself from complaining as she threw back her head in frustration of trying to memorize her lines.

Rodger’s spoke to those who were growing tired of learning the melodramatic play. “Part of house party’s job was to find entertainment. Playacting was looked upon with great excitement. It often was the key instigator for many romantic affairs.”

John’s voice rang out “People got wet for this stuff?”

“What you fail to realize is that these parties, where playacting was so popular, were during a time when men and women couldn’t be close to each other unless they were related. Or she was married. To be caught alone with a man, to even be touched by a man in public, even in the most friendly of gestures, was enough to spark gossip. A little bit of gossip could ruin a girl’s prospects at a good marriage, which was basically the Plays were the time when innocent fun could be had and perhaps a stolen kiss or two.

I’m so happy we don’t live back when this was a good first date. “ Veronica said

Her friends giggled. “Like, who paid for the first script.” The group continued to make pithy jokes. Brett saw the staff look a bit put out. And he felt the same way. Jeeze, we all don’t want to be doing this but just make this easier for us who have to learn our lines to support your smug faces. The thought startled him. For the first time, a little bit of regret passed through his heart, remembering how he’d behaved similarly during class projects.

Rodger’s wasn’t one to be deterred by the attitudes of the young, he ran a historical recreation after all. “Why don’t you all spend the next hour practicing your lines. The cooks have prepared a stupendous teatime treat for all the effort you are putting in today.

Our treat will be to clean up those treats, I bet, Brett though sarcastically.

A voice called to him, strong, but slightly raspy. “Young man.”

Brett saw Martina, beckoning him over with her wizened old finger.

“I need someone to help me practice my lines.” She said, not asking, but making it clear that someone was to be Brett.

Seeing no polite way to refuse he sighed inwardly and prepared himself for a long afternoon of boredom.

“I suppose it’s only fitting that I’m to play the cranky old widow. But wouldn’t it be fun if I was the ingénue.”

Sure would.” Brett knew by now that it was best to humor the regular of the Manor.

Martina continued as if she wasn’t bothered by Brett’s apparent aloofness. “Look over there, that young handsome man who probably murders a fly slowly., John I believe.”

Brett looked over at John and the others. They were overacting and laughing together. Even from a distance, he could tell they were making fun of the play.

“You knew were friends once, correct?

“Maybe not.” Brett mused.

“Well good riddance if you are rid of him. I know the type. He is the kind of man who’d only play the lead in a farce like this if he can preen in front of others. He want’s his love interest to be like that arm candy, Didi. I thought almost dying would have made her slightly more bearable. Turns out she didn’t see a bright light. I heard her harassing that Lady’s maid of hers. Saying she stole some jewelry. Raising a fuss over nothing. Anyway boys like John, and his “friends”, they are toxic, happy to ruin other’s good time to feel superior. You’re better off without them.”

Brett didn’t want to admit she was right. But he’d begun to suspect the same thing himself.

“You don’t enjoy working here, do you?” She asked him.

Brett shrugged. “It’s all right.”

She looked at him with eyes that didn’t miss anything. “Bullshit. Child, I’ve been here for too many years to not know who actually gets a kick out of pretending to be in the past.”

Brett was surprised. “Don’t you? You’re here every season.”

Martina looked sad. “I raised a daughter who loved all of this. She dreamed of living in a time of ladies, gentleman, and manners. I shouldn’t have let her read all those romance novels. She loved it here.”

“Did she become a maid here?”

Martina laughed.

“No. She opened this place.”

“Wait, but Rodgers…”

“Was her husband,” Martina interrupted. No longer looking sad, but fiery. “They met at a costume cruise, 1920s themed I believe. They bonded over a shared love of the art of making an authentic like past experience.”

“Oh. That sounds like a match made in heaven.”

“He certainly made it seem that way.”

“You think he was faking?”

“He told her everything he wanted to hear. And then when he became partial owner of the is place—“

“He didn’t turn out to be such a prince charming?” Brett couldn’t help but guess.

Martina nodded. “She told him to shape up or ship out. In the end, she went first.”

Brett asked stupidly, “Went where?”

“Where ever we all go,” Martina said pointedly.

“Oh.”

“She left me all of her shares. I could have sold them to Rodgers,” The old woman smiled. “But I am old and don’t have much else to do. It gives an old woman a kick to make his days a little harder like he did to my daughter.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I believe you are.”

“Did you think me a monster.”

“I think that’s what you wanted others to think. A cold man, that’s the part you play. “

“I’m not playing a part!”

“I was young once too, I know what if feels like to not fit in but believe me,” she said looking over at John and Veronica practicing, “There’s a point, an age, where you suddenly don’t care. That’s when you want the people around you who make you feel like you can be yourself. “

Brett wanted to ask her what she meant, but she was now looking over his shoulder. Brett turned around to see Wen, Tanya, and Max loping toward him.

“I think Bowers Manor is your second chance in more than one way. And it’s not by living in the past” She finished quietly, so only he could hear.

Max stopped next to Brett. He smiled and bowed to the old woman,

“Good day my lady. May we borrow this butler if you are done with him of course.”

Martina waved them away. “I think he would be more useful as a butcher than an actor. Take him away.”

“What did you find?” Brett asked once he was with the others.

Max and Tanya looked at each other with a smile and then took out a box from Tanya’s dress pocket.

“Holy crap!” It was a box of rat poison. Small but there was no mistaking the contents.

“Why does it look so…old.”

Tanya smiled, “Did you know there was a time when rat poison had no taste?”

“No…is that important?”

“Yes, it’s important. It’s easy to get props here; they want everything to look authentic. She could easily have gotten her hands on a box here that Rodgers ordered off of eBay.”

“You think she did it earlier in the day?”

“Or Davidson served him a poison cup and pilfered it away before the police got there. “ Wen said.

“Or Davidson gave him---“ Max started to say before Brett interrupted them.

“You guys went investigated without me?”

“It was a perfect time. EVERYONE is down here; it’s not like our free time, where people are roaming everywhere. “ Tanya explained.

“We knew we would have the floor to ourselves, the detectives are still looking for Gregory on the grounds,” Wen added.

“Or watching the door in case he wants to come kill everyone revenge style.” Brett spat.

“You’re angry?”

“I thought we were a team!” He almost yelled at them.

“We ARE a team, but you were busy down here,” Max said.

“We couldn’t just pull you away without drawing suspicion, at least now we are down here and they assume you’re helping us dust costumes. “

“You could have at least told me!”

“Shhh!” Wen hissed, looking around.

Tanya shared her concern. “Keep your voice down, do you want us to get in trouble”

“Who’s this “us” ?”

“Jesus we didn’t do it to hurt you,” Wen said impatiently.

“Why are you so obsessed with controlling everything?” Max asked him, concerned.

“Because while you were gone I was finding out crucial information about Martina”

“What is it?” Tanya asked.

“How can I tell people who don’t even keep me up to date on their investigation?”

Why are you being such a tool?”

“Because I don’t want to miss out!”

“It’s a murder investigation. To clear your friend's name.” Max said shocked.

“Oh, you remember Gregory?” Brett asked Sarcastically.

“You mean the one friend you actually had here,” Wen said back, with equal sarcasm.

Now Wen had no idea of the effect of her words. Perhaps she meant them differently but the cold truth of the words hit Brett hard. After his talk with Martina, he had found himself wondering if there was any truth in the idea that these people, who had been strangers could accept him for all his follies. But now he knew that he just wasn’t the sort who could make, or keep, friends.

“You’re right, he was. “With that Brett turned and walked away.

He waited for Max to follow him and apologize, for Tanya to admit he was right,

But none of them followed. He turned around They were all in a little semicircle, discussing their latest findings. Without him

Rodgers walked back into the large room where the guests were practicing. “All right my little actors are you ready to put your acting chops to the test?”

Some of the girls giggled. Rodgers truly had showmanship ability. Martina and Audrey seemed far less impressed.

“Let’s do a quick run through!”

It was a bad play by today’s standard, a moral story of how evil doesn’t win and good finds love. If someone had written back in in the 19th century this is what it might have sounded like. The servants were gathered to learn the play as well although their roles would be as audience members and stagehands. Although they could be asked to fill in if a guest didn’t feel up to the task.

I hope I get to be an audience member, Brett thought, I wouldn’t want to act in this drivel.

On stage, Jeff wooed an easily won Veronica. Didi played the ingénue, Veronica’s sister who would stop at nothing to save her misguided sibling. Samantha was playing Didi’s mother while Audrey was given a bit role as a seamstress. Brett wondered if Paul’s connections had enabled that embarrassing role to occur. Considering Paul was cast as Didi’s father there definitely must have been some subterfuge behind the scenes.

Then Martina and Audrey had a scene together in which the seamstress, who also makes dresses for the widow, tells her of the young ladies indiscretions.

The two women on stage were throwing themselves into the melodramatics deciding it was more fun to play along with the ridiculousness of it all. Brett thought of what Martina had said. One day I won’t care.

On the stage, Martina said her line, “If I’m lying then may the lord pierce my heart with lightning.” She reached out to open the drawer of a desk that had been placed on the stage. She jerked it open.

There was a loud twang, and then everyone was screaming. Martina clutched her stomach, perforated by a bullet Martina looked up at Audrey. She tried to talk, but only blood came out. She fell to the ground. Audrey fell to, clutching the old woman close, holding her hand, yelling her name. Martina looked up at Audrey, her eyes grateful that someone who cared was with her. And then she closed her eyes.

By the time Quincy and his officers arrived Martina was dead.